Album of Ambiguity
by Washuu Puppet
Summary: (Sequal to Book of Memories) Harry and Ron must deal with Hermione not remembering the first half of the year, right when a new "fan" of Harry pops up. Now, people are disappearing. Is Malfoy back? Or are there new rivals afoot?
1. Last Minute Plans

Dozens of owls come swooping down from the high windows in the Great Hall, their wings flicking off large flakes of snow as they flew. As each of them stopped at their chosen table, Harry and Ron both find an owl sitting in front of them as well, muddy talons in their oatmeal. The boys take their letters from the owls' beaks and watch them fly off.

"Look, Hermione didn't get a letter," Ron says.

"Think I care?" Hermione retorts, flipping to the next page of the _Daily Prophet_ she had in her lap.

"Well," Ron begins with a superior look on his face. "Who wouldn't want a letter from…mum?"

His face sunk after seeing who the letter was really from.

"Mine is from Hagrid," Harry says. "And it's addressed to all of us. It says: 'Hope you have a Happy Christmas. Enjoy the break and come down for tea sometime: Hagrid'."

Ron was reading through his own letter silently. Upon finishing, he tosses it aside. "I suppose it's the thought that counts, right?"

"What did it say?" Hermione asks.

"She wanted to know if I was coming home for the holidays this year. I never go home over Christmas. Though, she said that you two were welcome to go too."

"It sounds nice," Hermione says. "Your mother is such a kind person. Good cook too."

"Only if she likes you," Ron replies.

"That doesn't matter," Hermione waves it off. "We have a while to think about it anyway. The train going back to London doesn't leave for another three days."

"You really want to go?" Ron asks.

"Sure! What about you, Harry?"

"Sounds fine to me," Harry says. "It'll be like summer vacation again. Except with snow…"

"You mean sleeping in until early afternoon and stuffing your faces?" Hermione glares.

"'Tis the life!" Ron lifts his glass. "However, I could probably do that here."

"I thought we were just thinking about going," Harry ponders aloud.

"Of course we are," Hermione replies.

"Let's think about it later!" Ron suggests. "There's a Hogsmeade trip this afternoon, remember? A Butterbeer sure sounds good."

"A trip to Hogsmeade in general sounds nice. It's always so pretty in the winter season," Hermione says.

The last time they were at Hogsmeade was when Hermione still hadn't recovered completely from her memory loss. Harry slouches in his seat, remembering every detail as if it were yesterday. Since Hermione was cured now, she had some catching up to do. She claims she doesn't recall much of the first half of the year, but now and then she catches herself talking about something that happened during that time. She apologizes, but those moments still have always felt awkward to Harry and Ron. It's like helping a child out of a coma.

"Well, I'm done," Ron says, placing his spoon down in the empty bowl.

Hermione looks down at her watch. "We should get back up to the common room soon to pick up our heavier cloaks."

The three get up from the table and leave the Great Hall. They trek up the long staircases, not saying much, and finally reach the portrait of the Fat Lady. With password and entry, they go into their separate dormitories and retrieve their cloaks as well as scarves and matching gloves. They meet in the common room shortly after and go back down the main entrance.

"This trip is such great timing! I need to pick up some last minute Christmas gifts," Hermione says.

"Um," Ron mutters.

Harry knew he was concerned about gifts, seeing he didn't have much money to spend.

"Hey, look," Harry points towards the large double-doors. "It's Laurel."

Hermione and Ron turn their gaze in the direction of Harry's pointed finger and also find Laurel, standing uneasily as if waiting. She was twisting her head, side to side, making her pony tail swish. She spots the three and a large smile appears on her face.

"Hullo!" Laurel says as she bounds over to them. "It looks like you three are going to Hogsmeade as well."

"Yup."

"Last minute shopping."

"Butterbeer."

"I see," Laurel nods.

"Are you going by yourself?" Harry asks. "You can always join us."

"I would, I would, trust me," Laurel replies. "I was just waiting for Adam and Joel to show up. Unless you all want to go together?"

"I don't mind. Do you?" Harry turns to both Ron and Hermione.

"Not at all!" Hermione smiles.

"Nope."

"I know you guys don't know them too well," Laurel says. "Adam likes to joke a bit. Joel is on the quiet side, but ever since he recovered from that potion dilemma, he's been the perkiest I've seen in a long time. Won't be surprised if he ends up talking my ears off."

"Wouldn't think you'd mind that," Ron says, lifting an eyebrow.

Laurel's cheeks turn a white peach color. "I don't, Ronald. However, he kept on trying to convince Adam and I that some blessed angel was nursing him back to health. We kept on saying that 'it was Madam Pomfrey, you big dolt', but he still denies it. It's the opposite of being a pedophile. I knew guys liked older women, but his perceptions were ridiculous."

Harry felt like he couldn't say anything to that. Ron had a look of confused disgust on his face and Hermione was looking at the ceiling as if trying to think of a new topic.

"Ah, never mind about that," Laurel says. "Why don't we all get down to the gates? I'm sure Adam and Joel will catch up with me."

Laurel turns towards the large oak opening doors and walks away, ponytail swishing with her stride. Harry looks over at Ron and Hermione who looked back, both with the same blank expression on their face.

"She doesn't seem herself this morning, does she?" Harry asks.

"She hasn't since Joel recovered," Ron points out.

"Remind me who Joel is again?" Hermione tries to get into the conversation.

"Friend turned crush, turned almost dead, turned all better, turned still crush," Ron summarizes, in little to no sense.

"Laurel will be okay," Harry says. "She pulls herself back together all the time."

"Yet I feel it's half my business," Ron replies.

"Why?"

"She helped us, we help her," Ron explains to Harry. "But I'm not usually the type of person who does good deeds for others, so I'm holding back a bit. That and considering the hell she put us through."

"Hell that paid off," Harry corrects.

"I suppose," Ron shrugs, but blushes slightly.

Hermione stood next to him, clueless.

"Harry!"

A shout came from the northern staircase and you could see Adam running toward the group, with Joel trailing behind him, face still looking a bit pale. Breathing rather hard, they come to a halt, both holding their blue and sliver scarves and gloves.

"Have you seen Laurel?" Adam asks.

"She was just with us," Harry replies. "She left for the front gate and said she'd wait for you there."

"It's my fault we're late," Joel says. Being the first time Harry and the gang heard his voice, they were taken aback at how smooth it actually was against Joel's baby-like face.

"You need to get your head back on your shoulders yet," Adam rolls his eyes. "Seriously, the kid forgot where all his things were."

"Can you blame him?" Hermione flashes him a kind smile and Joel's ears turn pink, like Ron's do.

Adam laughs. "I blame all the magic they put into him. Affected him like morphine in muggles."

Only Harry and Hermione laughed along. Ron raised an eyebrow in confusion.

"This is the last call for students traveling to Hogsmeade!" Filch calls from the front doors, taking the passes from the children as they walked by.

"We better get moving," Adam says.

The five students run to the doors, give the sulking caretaker their slips and go out into the snowy morning. Large and fluffy flakes fell in scattered clumps, sticking to the kid's wool cloaks. They make their way towards the main gate of the school, hoping to see Laurel still waiting for them. Sure enough, she was leaning against one of the two large brick columns, boar statue on top covered in a cloak of white.

"Always boarding things up, she is," Adam says, mostly to himself.

Harry looked out of the corner of his eye at Adam, catching a slight hint. He could easily guess what was on Laurel's mind, but he wasn't sure if Adam knew. However, from his last statement, it was enough to make Harry curious.

Oh, well. What was the point in worrying about it? Today was about getting away from the professors and bracing your lungs out in the fresh winter air. It was about the spirit of Christmas as it was quickly approaching, probably sooner than most students had hoped. The holidays were more apparent than the snow on the ground, with all the children's faces glowing with excitement. There were plenty of other things brewing besides the potions in the cauldrons.

Laurel's face turned and a bright smile spread across her face when her eyes landed on everyone. "I see you three found my lost boys."

"Lost boys?" Adam practically exclaimed. "You're the lost girl! You were supposed to wait for us."

"I did," Laurel replies. "For a while…"

"What did you expect? I had to get him acquainted with all that his brain let leak out over the past four months!" Adam gently punches Joel in the arm.

"Don't get your knickers in a twist," Laurel waves it off.

She turns to Harry, Ron, and Hermione.

"Let's keep moving, shall we? I'm sure you'll all want to get some shopping done before sitting down for a warm Butterbeer."

"Sounds good to me," Hermione says, but doesn't progress any farther.

"How about we get the Butterbeer first," Harry suggests. "I feel there is a need to do some catching up on more than just shopping."

Ron suddenly chuckles. "Time for the dandy shed treatment, is it?"

Laurel glares at him.

Ron backs up a few steps. "Joshing; just joshing you."

Adam walks up to Laurel and puts his arm around her shoulder. "Come on, Lolly; let's go to that book shop you like so much."

Hermione starting walking down the road merrily at the mention of books, and the rest of the boys had no other choice but to follow.

The first part of the morning was full of nothing but window shopping and "getting lost" in Honeydukes Candy Store. No matter how many times they've been there, it never got old, and probably never would. Around eleven o'clock, the six finally stop in The Three Broomsticks for a nice bottle of Butterbeer. They choose a nice big round table towards the far wall and lean back in their chairs, relaxing.

"Do you three go home for the holidays?" Adam asks Harry, Ron, and Hermione.

"Not usually," Harry answers.

"Maybe this year we might," Ron says, putting his hands around his Butterbeer bottle to warm them up. "Got a special letter from Mum."

"You never seemed to care about her letters before, Ron," Hermione replies.

"Well, I haven't been home for the holidays since I started going here. I was going to first year, but mum and dad had to change plans and go to Romania."

"Do I sense some bitterness, Ronald?" Laurel asks.

"Eh, no, it turned out to be a good Christmas," Ron replies.

"I go home practically ever chance I get," Adam nods his head slowly. "Not that I don't like it here, mind."

"He's just a Mama's boy," Laurel smiles playfully.

"Aw, shut it, Lolly," Adam says with an angry edge.

Laurel simply shakes her head and takes a slow sip from her bottle.

"I'm just looking forward to a vacation," Joel says.

"You deserve one," Adam replies. "A nice long vacation will help you get off this high of yours."

Joel chuckles. "No, I'm looking forward to eating as much as I can in one sitting."

"Sounds like me at the opening banquet after a summer at the Dursley's," Harry says.

"Curse you people with high metabolism," Laurel scowls.

"Now I sense bitterness," Ron says.

Suddenly, a couple of fellow students came up to the table. They appeared to be first year students, with the wide eyes and glow in their cheeks. One was a girl with shoulder length pine-colored hair. After Harry got a good look at her, he wasn't sure she was a first year. Evenly developed; deep hazel eyes with a distinct cat-like angle to them. The student next to her was a boy, arms crossed over his chest and a blank face. Ash hair speckled with flakes of snow that hadn't quite melted yet.

"I swear it, I do!" The girl was saying.

"Come off it, Natalie," The boy signs.

"Can we help you?" Laurel leans over the table a little.

"My brother here doesn't believe me that this boy is actually Harry Potter," Natalie says, pointing to Harry.

Harry felt like hitting his head on the table. It was half-way through the year and he was still getting dumbfounded first years asking to get proof of his identity. Without any further discussion, he quickly pulls back his bangs so the boy and girl could see the scar.

Natalie's jaw drops, eventually evolving into a sly grin. "I told you, Dustin! He really is Harry Potter!"

"Do you get this a lot?" Laurel asks, quite obviously trying to make Natalie and Dustin feel stupid.

Harry nods slightly.

"My older brother has told me loads about you!" Natalie says, ignoring Laurel's comment. "How you saved the Sorcerer's Stone from being taken by You-Know-Who, and how good of a Quidditch player you are! I watched your games and you sure can fly!"

"Er, thank you," Harry replies.

"Who's your elder brother?" Hermione asks.

Natalie looks over at Hermione with a 'there-are-other-people-at-this-table?' expression painted on her face. "Joshua Nelson. He's in his seventh year!"

"Dirty little…," Dustin mumbled.

"Stop it! He's our brother," Natalie protests.

"Half brother, get it right. You look up to him way too much," Dustin replies. "He takes after his mother too much."

Natalie shows her brother her tongue.

"Anyways," Ron clears his throat.

"Yes, where were we?" Adam says.

Joel slides his Butterbeer bottle into the middle of the table after downing the last drop. "How about we head over to the Quidditch store and see if they have any new broom models?"

Everyone pushes their bottles in as well.

"Sounds good."

The six stand up and push in their chairs. Harry glances over at Natalie who was still bickering with Dustin. She quickly looks over her shoulder and notices them leaving and her lip instantly pouts. Harry couldn't help but feel that this girl was more mature than she let off; almost an act.

"Nice meeting you, but we'll be leaving now," Harry says.

Natalie straightens her back to get taller, top of her head almost reaching Harry's nose. "Thank you, anyway."

Ron leans in quickly. "Happy Christmas."

He grabs Harry's scarf and starts dragging him out of the Three Broomsticks. As Harry turned to walk forward, he could have sworn he saw young Natalie and Dustin give each other low high-fives. Oh, what was the point of even thinking about it? They were a couple of first years, just getting into the world of Hogwarts. Probably made bets over who would treat the other to a chocolate frog.

"How can you stand it, Potter?" Adam asked once they were out of the tavern. "I know that every wizard knows your name, but you'd think it would calm down after a decade."

"You'd think that, wouldn't you?" Harry replied. "It's not that, I'm sort of used to it. However, it gets more and more annoying every time someone asks me about it."

"At least it wasn't as bad as that Colin Creevy, remember?" Hermione says. "He was taking pictures of you left and right. Didn't matter what you were doing either."

"Glad he finally quit," Harry nods.

"Looks like you have a new fan to replace him," Ron jokes. "At least it's a girl this time."

"I'd rather have no fans at all," Harry says.

"Well, sorry to be the first to say it, but… you're you," Laurel clasps a hand on Harry's shoulder. "No intensions of being cruel, however, buck up and deal with it."

"She basically means you're screwed until you get plastic surgery," Joel adds.

"Oh, did any of you notice a different taste to the Butterbeer?" Hermione asks out of the blue. "It was runnier than usual."

Ron and Harry glanced at one another, remembering their potion trick. Apparently Hermione remembered it vaguely as well.

Hermione giggles shortly. "I can't tell which batch I liked better."

Laurel spurt a laugh.

"One thing's for sure; I'm done dealing with gits like Malfoy this year," Ron says.

"I couldn't agree more," Harry nods. "And no more 'cans of whoop-ass', Laurel."

"What can I say?" She shrugs. "You two brought out the rebel in me."

"They do bring out the fun of breaking the rules," Hermione says.

"Hear that, Harry?" Ron asks. "We're role models."

Harry rolls his shoulders back. "They can bow to us now."

"Not in your life!" Hermione and Laurel both bellow.

"Eh, it was worth a shot."

"Are you sure about this, Brother?"

"Yes, Natalie. Don't you worry what Dustin says. He's a hypocrite for it… because he's helping whether he likes it or not."

"But what will it prove?"

"Prove? It proves that The Followers may be retreating, but we're only gathering strength for another attack."


	2. Yes and No

"Did you hear? Did you hear?"

Two days remained until the Christmas holidays and the trio had just sat down for breakfast when Neville came running. He plopped himself down, causing the bench to shake and waited for an answer.

"Well? Did you?"

"Hear what?" Harry asks.

"About those two girls from Hufflepuff!" Neville states as if it were front-page news. "They've been missing since last night."

"Neville, this is Hogwarts," Hermione says. "They probably went through some unknown passage and got trapped. Dumbledore will find them soon."

"He's already checked!" Neville replies.

"Wait… how do you, of all people, know about this?" Harry questions.

Neville grinned slightly. "This morning when I was walking to the Great Hall, my bag ripped and all my books and parchment flew everywhere."

"Again," Ron adds quietly.

"Yes," Neville nods, obviously not understanding the insult. "It happened outside one of the teacher's lounges and the door was open a crack. While I collected my things, I overheard Professor Dumbledore and a few others discussing the incident. He said he even sent the ghosts to check the walls."

Neville appeared quite proud of himself and waited once again for one of his comrades to say something.

"They'll show up," Hermione replies nonchalantly. "They'll stroll into third hour, fashionably late, and say, 'fooled you!'"

"Malfoy wouldn't start something up again this soon," Ron says. "How stupid of a git could he be to do that?"

"Just short of the stupidest," Harry reaches for more Pumpkin Juice.

"Wasn't Malfoy's little dungeon destroyed?" Hermione asks, expression a bit cautious since her brain still remained foggy.

"Most of it," Roy says. "But it probably is him. Knowing his cocky attitude, he's trying to cover up the fact that we hexed his pills right--,"

Hermione elbows him in the rips.

"…Off," Ron gasps.

"Like I said, they'll be found within the day. Trust me," Hermione repeats, agitated.

Neville no longer grinned and began to sulk in his seat. "Just concerned."

"As soon as you disappear, Neville, we'll look into it," Ron says mockingly, waving his finger around.

"Why," Harry wonders, "can't we have a normal year?"

By afternoon break, most of the school knew of the two vanished Hufflepuff. Stupid rumors popped up ranging in degree. One claimed they simply wandered off, while other said Professor Snape opened an old torture chamber and had the sudden urge to break it in. Of course they weren't believed. Random people disappearing seemed average, but You-Know-Who still remained in the back of most students' brains.

"This is ridiculous. Why do they care so much about those two girls? It's not like the Chamber of Secrets when there were blood messages on the wall," Adam blurts out as the group walked across the grounds.

Even though the snow was calf-deep that day, little paths were made and the sun was out.

"Yeah!" Laurel exclaims. "Or when that Sirius Black character was out. I kept on my toes all the time."

Harry kept his mouth shut.

"Wasn't Joel supposed to join us?" Hermione asks.

"Oh…" Laurel stops in her tracks. "Yeah. Damn it."

"Bloke said he'd meet up with us after using the restroom. Probably got lost," Adam says. "Let's go look for him, Lolly."

"Yeah, we should," Laurel agrees. "See you."

They both wave quickly before scrambling back through the snow to the castle. Hermione, Ron, and Harry continue to walk towards the lonely looking hut of Hagrid. The invitation for tea had finally burned a hole in their pocket.

They knock hard on the heavy door, causing Fang to bark obnoxiously. Hagrid answers and smiles down on them.

"Glad ye finally came."

Shuffling inside and kicking extra snow from their shoes onto the mat, they toss their cloaks over a chair. A fire roared in the fireplace with a kettle of water heating up in the flames. A pile of Hagrid's homemade stone cakes sat on the table, looking very untouched.

"How ye feelin', Hermione?" Hagrid asks.

"Fine, thanks," Hermione replies. "Like always."

"Go ahead, have a seat, no need to be formal," Hagrid pushes them toward the table. "So, have ye 'eard 'bout those two girls?"

Harry sighs. "Yes, for the fiftieth time today."

"Ah, that kind of news, is it?" Hagrid chuckles.

"Do people honestly find it ominous?" Hermione asks. "It's not some clue, it's simply an accident."

Ron shrugs. "Maybe they apparated."

"Ron…" Hermione closes her eyes. "How many times must I remind you about apparating on Hogwarts grounds"

"Once more, I guess."

While Ron and Hermione bickered, Hagrid leans over to Harry to whisper.

"It's all back to normal, i'n't?"

"Yes," Harry nods, "and no."

"No?"

"There are times when things are just awkward," Harry says. "Hermione has a piece missing."

"Give it time, Harry. Give it time," Hagrid replies. "I'm sure she's tryin'."

"I know, but it makes me nervous."

"Nervous? 'Bout what exactly? Ye want 'er ta remember, don't ye?" Hagrid asks.

"Yes," Harry nods, "and no."

"What coulda possibly happened?" Hagrid wonders aloud.

"I'm not worried for my sake, but for hers," Harry answers. "Maybe I simply don't want to know how she may feel about it. We're best friends, and that's how it's supposed to be…forever."

"Stop talkin' that philosophy junk," Hagrid claps Harry on the shoulder.

"Philosophy?" Ron chimes in, Hermione tugging on his ear.

"Oh, forget it," Harry waves it off.

"What's bugging you, Harry? You look uneasy," Hermione says.

"Is it about… you know?" Ron asks, looking very panicky.

"No," Harry lied. "I'm worried about… Laurel."

"I'm sure she's fine," Ron says, freeing himself from Hermione's grip. "Joel is involved… she'll be fine."

"Hey!" Hermione suddenly exclaims. "Why don't you invite them too, Ron?"

"Invite who?" Both he and Harry ask.

"Laurel, Adam, and Joel," Hermione says.

"Where dey all bein' invit'd to? Ye havin' a Christmas party with out tellin' me?" Hagrid grins, apparently trying to make a joke.

"My mum just asked me if I was coming home for the holidays," Ron simplifies. "It was really out-of-the-blue. Why invite them?"

"It's not like you're very chummy with any of them," Harry says.

"Well," Hermione hesitates, "they're good friends with you, so I thought I'd suggest it. They seem like nice people."

She nodded her head up and down as if making an awkward guess or critiquing food. The, 'yes-yes-this-is-decent' look. Hagrid appeared confused himself, eyeing Harry, Ron, and Harry again. Harry simply shrugs and grabs for a stone cake. It would keep him out of the conversation for a while. Jawbreaker and lifesaver.

"Wouldn't it be a bit odd?" Ron questions. "Hey Laurel, how's it going? How about you stay at my place for a week or two? We'll stay up late and play board games and tell dirty secrets."

Harry chokes on his cake.

"I thought I'd suggest it!" Hermione reiterates. "I'm not telling you to plan a sleep-over or some shack-up."

Harry had to pound on his chest to help it down.

"Sorry about her, Hagrid," Ron says. "She evidently has her mind in the mists of Hell."

"Me?" It's you, Ronald!" Hermione yells.

"So, Hagrid, how's your garden coming along?" Harry tries to change the subject, even though the dead of winter gave the answer.

"Fine, I'll ask them," Ron tosses his hands up. "I'm sure Mum will completely fall in love with three more people at her door than expected."

Hermione sighs and raises her eyebrows.

The rest of the visit idled by with mixed conversation. They left the hut a half an hour before afternoon classes were to start. They made it all the way to the second floor before running into Laurel and the other two boys. Adam was laughing, almost hysterically, while Joel looked a bit embarrassed.

"What's up?" Harry asks.

Adam, red in the face, puts a hand on Joel's shoulder. "He's still a little crackers in the head."

"I told you that you wouldn't believe me," Joel protests.

"Drop it, Adam," Laurel sighs.

"He said he heard someone," Adam holds a hand to the side of his mouth, "screaming."

"He was in the Owlry, Adam!" Laurel says. "It was probably an owl."

"I don't know what it was," Joel shakes his head. "Or who, I should say."

"An owl hooted at you, Joel," Adam concludes.

"But the pitch," Joel interrupts.

"It was most likely that tiny one in the corner that always flies around your head when you enter," Adam laughs.

"Pigwidgeon," Ron whispers.

"Forget about it!" Laurel says. "Let's go to class."

The three walk by and Adam's chuckles could still be heard down the corridor.

"Giddy little git about nothing," Harry says.

"Want to send a letter tonight?" Hermione asks.

"Eh, I suppose I should answer Mum," Ron shrugs, "and Pig needs exercise."

"I told you it was a good idea," Hermione says triumphantly.

"Yes, yes… you did," Ron groans. "Now shut up about it."

"Wouldn't it be awkward?" Hermione mocks. "No!"

Laurel had accepted the invitation to the Weasley's over Christmas holiday. Adam and Joel were already returned to their own homes and had to refuse. Ron wrote his letter, explaining one extra person was coming and they were now in the Owlry hunting down the little owl, Pig. Midnight rounding on them, they had to hurry up to go back to the common room on time.

"It'll be fun," Harry says, trying to wipe the scowl off Ron's face. "Stop thinking of it as a sleep-over party."

"We've only been friends for about two months, Harry," Ron argues. "Won't she start to think things? Her mind will be swimming! She's a girl; they jump to stupid conclusions!"

"Excuse me?" Hermione asks.

"Laurel won't think you're trying to move in on her," Harry almost laughs. "I mean, come on!"

"Maybe that's what Ron is hoping will happen," Hermione sneers.

"Oh my god!" Ron exclaims. "How can you two even think that? Especially you, Harry."

"I know, I know," Harry doubles over. "Joshing you."

"Poking fun," Hermione agrees, but laughs along.

Ron quickly ties the letter to Pigwidgeon's leg and throws it out the window, mumbling under his breath.

"Keep it up," Ron entices, "and I'll have your Christmas presents all for myself."


	3. Games

"Oh, I forgot how beautiful the countryside is this time of year!"

Laurel pressed her hand against the train's window, continuing to gawk.

"Eh," Ron shrugs. "Its just snow."

"I love snow," Laurel counters. "We have a lot in common."

Ron turns to Harry, crosses his eyes and sulks down in his seat.

Harry had to try not to laugh.

The two boys, along with Laurel and Hermione were on the Hogwarts Express, heading home for the holidays. Another four inches or so of snow came overnight, making everything sparkle without a footprint in sight. It was hard to believe that such a place existed, Harry thought. The busy streets of London were the exact opposite.

"Ah," Ron groans randomly, grabbing his hair. "I hope Mum got that letter."

"Pig left about a day ago," Harry says.

"Yes, but it _is_ Pig," Hermione agrees with Ron. "He might have gotten himself lost in the snow."

"Oh, the poor thing," Laurel sighs.

"I sense…sarcasm," Ron says.

Laurel shrugs. "The little twit made Joel think there was a torture chamber in the janitor's closet."

"Sorry," Ron replies with no feeling. "I should have known his slow mind would replace owl with human."

"Shut it, Weasley."

Ron laughs. "Love can do crazy things to a person."

Harry opens his mouth to speak, but Laurel beats him.

"I wouldn't be talking, Ronald!"

Ron's ears turn pink, finally are of the hole he dug for himself.

"Okay, let's not start off on the wrong foot," Harry says. "Enough joking around."

Hermione was blushing, probably from feeling awkward. Laurel tapped her foot rapidly, staring Ron down, who tried to avert her gaze. The silence broke when the cabin door slid open. Malfoy stood in its frame, face appearing somewhat disappointed.

"Ah, I see," He nods. "There's only a bunch of scum in here."

"Not until you came in," Harry replies.

"Very smart, Potter," Malfoy says. "If only you were as quick as your wit when it came to saving your Mudblood girlfriend…"

Hermione doesn't say a word, but sits quietly, gazing down at her feet.

Both Harry and Ron stood up, ready to throw any punch possible. Malfoy simply closes the door casually, smiling mischievously. It fell silent and all you could hear was the train moving over the rails. Laurel sighs slightly, but the emotion behind it was indecipherable.

"I'm sorry."

"Hermione, why are you apologizing?" Harry questions.

"I'm…I'm just sorry," Hermione replies.

"Non of this is your fault, Hermione," Ron says.

"I said I'm sorry already!!" Hermione yells, quite angrily.

Harry and Ron sit back down and don't speak. Hermione pulls her cloak tighter around her and stares at the floor.

The rest of the ride was uneventful. At least they didn't argue anymore. The tension, however, still hung around. What type of tension it was didn't matter for it made them all uncomfortable, and that is never enjoyable. The fat witch that pushed the snack cart came at noon and they purchased some Cauldron Cakes and Chocolate Frogs, Licorice Wands and Every Flavor Beans. Candy always loosens the mood, even though it made diction suffer.

An hour later, a knock sounds from the door and Fred and George's faces appear in the window.

"Well, isn't it the leftovers," Fred says, coming into the compartment.

"Run out of entertainment elsewhere?" Harry asks.

"Yes, sort of," George nods.

"Anything else?" Ron wonders aloud.

"We're almost to King's Cross—"

"—And Dad said he'll have a company van for us."

"No, he didn't. We'll probably use the car—"

"—Which won't fit all of us."

"Unless we have one of you four spread across our laps—"

"—Like a little, cramped harem."

"We might even fan you!"

"No takers?"

"Maybe they'd rather ride in the trunk?" Fred asks his twin, who nods.

"Maybe you'd rather button it!" Ron says.

"Oh, we'll answer to that later," George replies. "There will be a snowball fight when we get home."

"That sounds like fun!" Laurel perks up unexpectedly.

"Join our team, young Lady, and make it a three-on-three?" Fred raises an eyebrow.

"Sure," Laurel says.

"Evil!"

"No far, she's got a good arm."

"Exactly. That's why we need her."

"Well, we got Harry, he's a Quidditch player."

"And we're not, Fred?"

"…I didn't mean to cause trouble."

"You're fine, young Lady."

"Hermione is the brains of our operation."

"Yeah, like that will help you."

"Excuse me?"

The intercom cuts through the gibberish. "We will be approaching King's Cross Station shortly. Please gather all your belongings and make sure to check the overhead racks."

The group grabs their luggage and within five minutes, the train arrives at Platform 9 ¾. Everyone aboard hustled out of the carts and got crammed into the hallway. It was a slow exit, and it was rather stuffy after a while. Parents greeted their children merrily with hugs and kisses. It was way too dramatic for a simple holiday return, and Mrs. Weasley was no exception.

"Oh, it's so good to see you, dears!" She cries.

She pulls her boys into her arms.

"Where's Ginny?"

"On a different car," Ron squeaks out in lack of breath.

"Harry! Hermione!" Mrs. Weasley releases her sons and takes hold of the next two.

"Hullo, Mrs. Weasley," Harry says.

"Thank you for letting us visit," Hermione adds.

"It's not a problem at all!" She replies. "I'm so glad to have you for Christmas."

Mrs. Weasley lets them go and sees Laurel.

"And you must be Laura!"

"Laurel," She corrects, holding out a hand. "It's nice to meet you."

"Oh, not a handshake," Mrs. Weasley shakes her head. "Come here."

She beckons her for a hug and Laurel goes reluctantly.

"Official initiation," Harry whispers to Ron.

"Thank you for having me over on such short notice."

"Think nothing of it! It's so nice to know that Ron is making new friends," Mrs. Weasley says. "Not that anything is wrong with Harry and Hermione. I love them like my own."

"Except for when those rumors were in _Witch Weekly_. Remember, Hermione?" Harry laughs under his breath.

"Ugh," Hermione hangs her head.

"Too bad Vicky couldn't read English," Ron growls.

"Oh, drop it Ron," Hermione snaps. "And don't call him Vicky."

Jealousy is never forgotten, Harry thinks to himself.

The large group­­­­ made their way out to the car and the backseat surprisingly fit all of the children. It magically expanded just as the truck usually did when packing all of their enormous school luggage. Still cozy at shoulder to shoulder, the ride to the burrow seemed to last longer than the train ride back to London. Mrs. Weasley made small-talk. The boys would grunt an answer while Laurel gave elaborate responses as if she would be graded on them. She enjoyed it like a game, even if the only opponent was herself.

Hermione looked out the window almost the entire time. Sometimes her eyebrows would furrow or twitch as if she was thinking incredibly hard and still couldn't come up with an answer. Harry tried to reach across the twins to give her a pat on the knee, but Fred simply took his hand in a playful handshake.

Before long, the twins managed to get the entire company to participate in a rousing game of 20 questions. Of course, they ended up choosing things that didn't actually exist in either the muggle or wizard world. After a while, nobody even bothered to ask them a single question and they ended up playing with themselves (which may have been more annoying than everyone contributing).

The burrow finally appeared as if magic, or mostly because the kids were in such a daze they lost track of time and space. They all unloaded the car and brought their trunks up to the rooms. By then, everyone could already smell food being made down in the kitchen. In response, they congregated in the living area to wait. Laurel simply could not sit still. She bounced in her seat on the couch, looking up and down the walls, around corners and into every crook and cranny.

"Could you possibly calm down?" Ron asks, irritated and swaying slightly because of her bouncing and he sat next to her on the couch.

"Oh, I'm just so excited," She replies.

"For our snow battle?" Fred leans over.

George perks up from his position on the floor.

"Of course," Laurel stretches out a long as possible, intense look on her face.

George nods sinisterly. "After lunch."

All through the meal, a tension rose. Mostly between the Weasley boys and Laurel; Harry and Hermione ate casually. As soon as the plates were clear and Mrs. Weasley was thanked for the delicious food, everybody sprinted up to their rooms to drape themselves in warmer clothing. Scarves and mittens and coats came on. Once the armor was secure, all six rushed outdoors. Ginny, of course, wanted to play but decided after seeing Fred and George put rocks in their snowballs to sit and watch instead.

Laurel and the twins began with amazing force, most likely delivering bruises. The rocks hidden in the snowballs may have been the cause of that, but who would dare call them out at cheating? After a good fifteen minutes went by, the rules changed slightly. Laurel, Fred, and George wanted to make it more like a deadly capture the flag. One person would be the "flag", one a guard and the other a mobile infantry unit.

Each team chose a base. Harry, Ron, and Hermione were on the side of the house, Hermione being the flag and Harry her guard. Ron did not want to be out in the field, for fear of being clobbered. He eventually gave in, however. He wiped his scarf around his face and made sure a snowball was in each hand before summoning all of his bravery and stepping out from behind their wall of security.

Hermione snickered.

"What?" Harry asks.

"They're all treating it like an actual war."

Harry shrugged. "I guess so."

Hermione sat down and sighed. Harry looked down at her and ended up sighing as well. He shook his head to himself and patted the top of her head a couple times, making her already curly hair poof even more.

"What? Am I your dog?" She laughs.

"No."

"You know," her voice began to choke up, "I'm not going to go away again. At least, not on my own volition…"

Harry was taken aback slightly, but the thought was truly in the corners of his mind.

"I didn't mean it that way, Hermione."

"I… I know you probably didn't," she stutters. "I just can't help but think you and Ron are going to baby me now, like I can't take care of myself. I mean, I'm not some fragile person."

"I know that Hermione," Harry sits down next to her. "You're very strong. I'm just glad you're back."

Hermione looked over at him, eyes narrowed.

"Am I?"

"What?"

"Am I?" Hermione repeats. "Harry, I can't remember most of my first semester. All I have are flashbacks and I feel as if they're not mine. I can see myself doing these things and I am like…I wouldn't do that! Would I?"

Harry couldn't reply to that. He was trying to place together everything Hermione had said. She looked so frustrated, biting the inside of her cheek. Her nose twitched slightly, the same way it always did when she was upset with someone, or herself.

"I'm not me, Harry," Hermione continues. "When Malfoy talked about me on the train, I did nothing. I sat there. I never used to be scared of him, and now I can't even look at his face. I'm so stupid, Harry! I'm pathetic! I'm a shell of who I used to be and I hate myself for it. It's my own fault I lost myself."

"Hermione, stop blaming yourself."

"But, Harry, you don't understand!"

Hermione paused.

"It _is_ all my fault!"

"No, it' not—"

"Yes, it is! It's all my fault because I let it happen!" Hermione says.

"Ron and I—" Harry begins.

"No," Hermione says flatly. "I appreciate yours and Ron's help more than anything, Harry. However, can you see where I am coming from?"

Harry looked into her eyes, trying to find the bit of reason she was hanging so dearly on to.

Suddenly, Ron burst from around the corner, his hat completely caked with snow and one could swear there was a small line of blood across his cheek. He shook his head violently and a sheet of frozen snow showered down. His eyes were wide and almost wild with either fear or excitement.

"Wow," He exhales.

"How fares the combat?" Hermione asks.

Ron's whole body shuttered.

"Fred is merciless," He replies. "I almost got to Laurel, but got shot in the back with a really hard snowball."

"Well, get back out there, soldier!" Hermione leans over to tap his leg. "Protect your flag."

Ron grabbed a couple more snowballs and headed out into the battlefield.

Hermione shook her head and let out a little laugh.

Harry took a moment to remember the look on her face. She seemed the happiest just at that moment than she had the whole day.

"What is it now?"

"Well," Hermione says, "it's a bit ironic, isn't it? We just finished the fight to regain my initial memories. And now, _I'm_ fighting to remember the fight."

Harry slung an arm around her shoulder and pulled her closer, running his hand up and down her arm. She placed her head on his shoulder, some of her hair tickling his nose.

"You'll be you in no time," Harry says.

"Thank you, Harry. You've always been like a brother to me."

Harry then remembered what Laurel said back when they were still trying to cure Hermione. They were in Hogsmeade, the park, and Laurel had locked Hermione and Ron in a tool shed. "_That's what happens in a guy-guy-girl relationship. You love them both to death, but one is more of a brotherly love. The other couldn't help but capture your heart"_. Harry was happy to be platonic with Hermione. He knew for quite some time that she and Ron had something different between them. He supposed it was mostly fear of being cast aside after things progressed, if they ever did. Jealousy was one of the many monsters residing in Harry, and it was hungry more often than the others.

There came three terrifying war-like cries from the backyard. Fred and Laurel rounded the corner at top speed, and nailed Harry with snowballs galore before grabbing Hermione by an arm each. They lifted her clear off her feet and cried their victory once more. Ron crawled from around the house, completely covered in snow, cheeks and nose rosy.

"Harry," he cracks. "You're the guard. What happened?"

"What happened to you?" Harry counters.

"I looked away for one second," he replies. "One second was all it took."

The two boys collapsed, looking up at the grey sky. It slowly started to snow.

That night, the six lounged in the living area once more, this time decked in comfy pajamas and slippers. Hermione was sitting on the couch, Laurel on the floor in front of her. They were taking turns French braiding each other's hair. It was strange seeing Laurel with her hair down. She smiled as she sat cross-legged, holding a mug of hot eggnog. Hermione had loosened up after her talk with Harry that afternoon. For some reason, it helped.

"Ah," George groans. "It's too early to go to bed, but it's too late to do anything productive."

"I know; I have an idea," Laurel says. "Let's play a game."

She lowered her voice for 'game' as if it were forbidden.

The twins perked up, but Ron, slouching in an armchair, sighed heavily and looked up at the ceiling. Harry laughed, trying to anticipate what was on Laurel's mind. It turned out to be nothing to worry over.

"We're going to play Poker."

"What's Poker?" Fred and George ask together.

"Oh, I forgot," Laurel nods, looking back at Hermione. "We're surrounded by wizard folk."

"Muggle game," Hermione adds.

"Hey, I know what Poker is," Harry says.

"Alright, three are in the know. That should make it easier to teach to the red-heads here," Laurel stood up. "I have a deck of cards in my trunk."

Laurel quickly ran upstairs. Fred and George started to raise their eyebrows at each other, sly grins on their faces. Hermione appeared calm as can be, taking a spot on the floor. Laurel returned quickly and sat down next to Hermione, beckoning all the boys to join them and form a nice circle. She shuffled the cards, not in any fancy fashion, and deals five of them to each person and sets the rest of the deck in front of her.

"Okay! Your goal is to get the best possible hand. Ace is high; you can get a pair, three of a kind, four of a kind, two pair, flush, straight, royal flush, full house. I don't think I forgot any, did I?"

Hermione shook her head. "Don't think so."

"I'm the dealer, and you can trade cards in to me for a possible better hand. You can only trade once and up to three cards. If you have an Ace, you can trade four. We all bet on our hand. Best hand wins, of course, and wins all of the booty."

She smiled widely on saying booty, swooping low into the double o.

"Does it have to be money?" Fred asks.

"No, I don't have a problem with miscellaneous items," Laurel says. "I think that's even more fun."

"I'm not sure I get it," Ron looks quickly at his five cards.

"Okay, the first hand will be a demo."

After each player traded in their desired cards with Laurel, they all showed their hands. Hermione came away with the win, displaying two pair, 7s and 10s.

"Remember, it's all luck, really," Laurel says as she collects all of the cards. "All in good fun."

The rousing gambling continued for hours after the Weasleys got a hold on the concept of Poker. Not much money was added to the pot. If any, they were Knuts, and those were only used for the initial ante. Hermione did surprisingly well. She took win after win, grinning to herself as she pulled in all sorts of items. She won a pair of Harry's socks, one of Ron's shirts, and, oddly enough, a pair of boxers from the twins. Laurel laughed so much, maybe influenced by the countless mugs of eggnog she consumed.

Fred and George eventually retired, saying they needed some underwear left for tomorrow. Hermione offered to give back her prize, but they claimed she won them fair and square…and should use them wisely. Hermione laughed, loud and proud, brandishing those buck teeth. It was amazingly good to see her act in such a way. Her smile was the best.

Laurel, Ron, Harry, and Hermione remained on the couches and armchairs late into the night. The Christmas tree in the corner glowed magically (literally and figuratively). On a dare, Hermione attempted to wear all of her booty at once. She easily put on Harry's socks over her own, Ron's shirt over the exciting one and the boxers on the outside of her pajama pants. The colors clashed horribly, but it was quite amusing to see the ensemble together. Harry noticed that Ron wasn't taking his eyes off her.

Hermione was slowly drifting away, nodding off and letting her eyes droop. Her words were slurring and not making sense. It had been a long day.

"Hermione, you should probably go to bed," Harry says.

"You're probably right," Hermione nods.

She heaves herself off the couch that was swallowing her by the minute and sways on the spot. Laurel quickly holds out her arm for Hermione to grab.

"Harry, would you be so kind as to get her up the stairs?" She asks.

"Sure."

Harry took Hermione's arm from Laurel and guided her up the winding staircase towards Ginny's room where two cots were set up for the visiting girls.

Ron leaned forward in his chair, obviously ready to turn in himself.

"So," Laurel says, making sure he was looking at her, "did you have fun today?"

"Yeah, I suppose," Ron answers. "I didn't think I would, but I did."

Laurel grinned. "You were so cute, defending you flag."

Ron flushed slightly. "It was just a game; don't look so deeply into it."

Laurel nodded.

"I know you're planning on not telling Hermione how you feel anytime soon, Ronald," She says. "But you really should."

"Who are you to talk?" Ron asks. "You have it easier than I do and you still haven't made a move."

"Excuse me? You think it's easier for a girl to do this than a guy?"

Ron hesitated. "I don't say that, but it's possible."

"Ha!" Laurel almost snorts. "I don't know what it's like to be a guy, obviously. However, I can tell you it's no easy trip for girl. We fear rejection just as much as you do."

"I find that hard to believe."

"And I find it hard to believe you boys have a heart down there sometimes," Laurel counters. "Anyways, I wanted to make a pact with you."

"Pacts are useless."

"Okay, a promise? You like that word better?" Laurel teases. "We'll both tell our secrets after break. You, Hermione, and I, Joel."

Ron didn't answer.

Laurel poked his arm. "I'm not saying we'll do it in the same room. I just think it may be easier on us knowing there are others in this boat. The words may come easier knowing someone else is saying the same ones. I'm sorry if I'm not making much sense."

Ron slowly nodded. "I understand."

"Do you think you can do that?" Laurel asks. "Not for me, but for yourself. Maybe things will be easier once you tell her."

Ron laughed shortly. "Right after break?"

Laurel thought for a moment. "Well, not the day after," she laughs. "However, we cannot go into February without doing it."

"February, huh? That gives us a month to prepare."

Laurel smiled. "You make it sound like an exam."

"I'm as nervous about this as I am about exams!" Ron jokes. "Well, maybe more."

"I should say so," Laurel agrees. "Look, I don't want to push you. I want to help you."

Ron shrugged. "Okay, I'll give it a go."

Laurel flashed a bright grin and holds out her pinky finger. "Pinky Promise!"

"What are you, seven years old?"

"Possibly," Laurel smirks.

Ron smirked back, giving her his pinky finger. They lock them and shake them up and down two or three times.

The two get up from their seats and head toward the stairs to go to bed. At the base, Laurel turns around to face Ron again, a slight sneer painted on her lips.

"I bet you liked seeing her in your shirt, eh, Ronald?"

He shoved her shoulder hard, a devilish look on his face. "Laurel!"

She giggled and ran up the stairs before he could punish her again.


End file.
